


Drowning in Sight of Land.

by bearandwalla (orphan_account)



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: F/M, Pregnancy, Sexual Content, Unplanned Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-08
Updated: 2015-04-13
Packaged: 2018-03-21 23:31:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 19,392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3707451
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/bearandwalla
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes life throws you a curveball, and sometimes life tosses a 12 pound medicine ball directly at your face while you aren't looking.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Quiet Orbit.

I'm trying to write this as accurately as I can. I want to represent us in the brightest, most truthful light, but you see, I'm biased. I know how this story ends.

It would be reaching to call what Harry and I had a passionate love affair at first, though he would often romanticize it as such in his daydreams and endless journal entries. In reality, it was something that happened sometimes, and then didn't happen even more often. This is until our world was turned upside down.

It started as a conversation in a small patch of sun out the back door of an Australian stadium. I was sitting against the cinderblock wall, legs splayed out wide, apron still around my bent neck, taking in the warmth of the afternoon. He watched me for longer than he probably should have, but my eyes were closed and according to him I didn't seem to notice or care. He's told me the story a million times. I'd worked with catering for months. We'd seen each other nearly every day, but something about that scene made him want to break our quiet orbit around one another. And so he did. He talked to me every chance he got after that.

I fell for his dumb jokes and rambling stories and he fell for my willingness to accept him however he was that day. That being said, we weren't a great match. I kept his secrets but offered very little of myself. A regret I still hold to this day. For Harry, I think my lukewarm manner was only manageable in small doses. When he would sneak into the kitchen to ask about my day, I would recite it like a schedule, light on details, almost standoffish.

I think he understood it. He's usually a listener himself. He certainly couldn't fault me for it. On my end, it was mostly a comfort thing. There was always this very real extra presence that floated around with Harry. An anxiety inducing elephant standing just inches from the two of us when we spoke. No matter how solitary we actually were, I never felt truly alone with him. His little book glued to his hand, cataloging his every thought, bodyguards looming at every threshold he crossed, cameras, people, noise everywhere he went. It just wasn't my scene. 

It was because of this that the first few times he invited me to his hotel room I declined with feeble excuses. It was a headache, then lack of sleep, then more desperate justifications like needing to call and check up on my dog and brother. It finally came to a head when I slipped up and told him that my hotel room had bored me to literal tears the night before, to which he, of course, ask me again to come around to his.

"If you're so bored, you can always come to my room tonight." He stated dully, sneaking a few stray blueberries from the counter and popping them into his mouth. "Mine's boring too, but we can play a game or something."

"A game!" I laughed, rolling my eyes dramatically. "What, hide the pickle? No thanks."

He feigned insult. "I would never." A coy smile played out on his face. "I was thinking more of a board game, cards maybe, darts, Russian roulette, whatever. I don't care."

"You that bored too?" I said sympathetically, seriously considering his offer.

"I am, I really am." He sounded downright pitiful.

"Alright then." I gave in. "I'll come around later. But you better not try anything!"

And he didn't. He really didn't. It became an on again, off again ritual. We'd watch shows in languages we didn't speak, dubbing over the actors with our own dialogue. We'd try to throw popcorn into each other's mouths from unreachable distances. We'd practice ostensibly impossible yoga poses on the floor, falling into a pile of limbs and almost always nearly breaking something of value. Gradually, as two single people with even a little attraction tend to do, we began sitting closer and closer to one another, carefully, awkwardly, neither of us seemingly wanting to be the first to take the plunge. Until one sticky, foggy night, after a few too many mojitos on the balcony, I opened an absolute floodgate on him.

"I like you, Harry." I stated bluntly, lolling my head back onto the chair and looking straight at him.

He sat upright and looked back at me suspiciously. "Like me how exactly?"

"Romantically, I suppose." My voice was soft, just above a whisper, but sure. "What I meant to say is that I think about you all of the time. I think about being with you."

He remained quiet. This wasn't exactly how I thought it would go. I wasn't sure what I'd expected, but my candor was off-putting even to myself.

"Well say something!" I laughed. "Say, yes, Malu, I like you too. Or no, Malu, I'm not into you. Please go away."

"Definitely not the second one!" He finally answered. "Don't go away."

"I don't know." I sat forward too, setting my drink down on the table between us and rubbing my knees. "I just felt like maybe you liked me too. I maybe got my signals crossed. It's not a big deal."

He didn't seem to want to reply. I think we both wanted to keep things just as they were a bit longer, avoid anything even remotely awkward in the future, but he knew he had to. "I do like you too. Romantically."

"Well, then! There's that out there!" Before he could respond I stood up abruptly, stumbling forward ever so slightly, trying to disguise my intoxication. "I'm going for a wee. It's late. I should head back to my room."

Harry waited a moment before following me inside. I lingered in the room before going for my wee, watching him through the glass door. Truthfully, I hadn't really put much thought into how he may have felt about me. All I knew is that I liked him. I did 'think about him all the time' as I had said completely against my will, but he didn't set my heart racing or anything like that. I wanted to see him every day, but I didn't get that needful feeling people always talk about when they're in love, or lust, or whatever.

When I came out of the bathroom he was waiting for me, sitting on the edge of the bed looking down at his socked feet. I reached for my key card and phone.

"Don't go yet." His voice was a bit hoarse from all of our chatter earlier in the night. "Come here."

"I have to go, love." I stated, I left an undertone of sorrow in my voice.

"Let me kiss you. " He looked into my eyes, trying to gage a response. "Lets see how it feels, yeah?"

I reluctantly sat next to him. "Don't do that. Don't kiss me because you feel like you should or tell me you like me because I said it first." My eyes were a bit pink and I know I looked exhausted, half dead at this hour. "Please."

Harry turned to face me, resting his hand on my cheek. His palm felt scorching hot on my cold skin. His face lingered close to my mine. "I don't feel like I should. I want to."

Though I wanted to roll my eyes and shove him off the end of the bed, I gave him a shy smile and he liked it, I suppose. He smiled back and I could see the light all the way in his eyes. I tried to put a name to it, catalogue it, put it in it's proper place in my mind, but I couldn't. I just felt warm.

Once our smiles had begun to fall and enough time passed to make it more than a little weird, he finally gave in and kissed me. It wasn't some wild, ravaging kiss, but it made me feel more of that warmth and I knew I didn't want to stop. Harry clearly didn't want to stop either. I brought my hand to his side and held on to his t shirt. I wanted to feel his skin under my fingertips, but not yet. I was happy right there. We were still in a place we could come back from if we needed to and I wasn't moving out of it for anything.

Our kiss turned into a cuddle, but not much else that night. We fell asleep on top of the duvet with everything but our socks on, my head propped under Harry's chin and our fingers interlocked on his chest. It was nice. Weird, but nice.

We didn't talk about it the next day, or the one after that, but I knew I wanted to kiss him again, finally feeling the tiny pangs of desperation I had been wondering about before. Every time I saw him smile across the room or he snuck into the kitchen to talk to me, I felt that same warmth again. Harry's giddiness was infectious, making even my deadpan self feel a bit chatty around him.

It was just after lunch when we broke our silence on the subject. We had gone outside where the buses were parked to enjoy the fresh air. I took my apron off and laid it on the boiling hot pavement to sit on.

"Can I come by tonight?" I started abruptly, kicking myself internally. " Or you can come by to mine. Or neither if you don't want to. Whatever."

Harry smiled, looking down at the ground and smoothing out the tiny rocks on the asphalt with his hand. "I'd like that. I'll come to your room this time."

"Will you kiss me again?" I kept my voice low, almost a whisper, like I didn't want him to hear, because truthfully I didn't.

He turned his head in my direction, lifting his sunglasses and propping them atop his hair. "Do you want me to? Do you want me to kiss you?"

"God!" I laughed loudly. "Of course I do! I'd like you to more than kiss me you twat!" I shoved at him with my elbow.

Harry shot me a sly grin and chuckled. "Tell me what you'd like me to do and I'll do my best." He slid his hand over to my knee and squeezed lightly. "Within reason. Don't go asking me to piss on you because I wont."

I threw my hands up in sarcastic surprise, letting myself fall back lightly on the ground. "Well then! This wont work at all!"


	2. Soft.

I was frantically throwing clothes and shoes at my suitcase, hiding the evidence of just how messy I really was, when Harry knocked at my door. I ran to answer, sliding a bit on my socks and pausing to fluff my hair in the entryway mirror. Be cool. This literally isn't a big deal.

"Hi! Hey!" I said quickly, slightly out of breath, when I opened the door, trying not to contort my face as I thought about how much of an idiot I sounded like. "Come in!"

"Hello!" Harry replied singsong. "Were you running a marathon?"

"No!" My cheeks turned rosy. "I was just picking up. Didn't want to walking into my knickers all over the floor and all."

Harry placed his phone and keycard on the dresser and turned back to me. "You know I don't care about that. You see my mess all the time." He had brought a bottle of wine with him, already open, but no glasses. "Do you have a few cups lying around?" He pulled the cork and waited while I searched the room, finding nothing with even a semblance of class to present to him

I came back in with an awkward smile on my face. "Coffee mug or water glass? Your choice." Harry pointed to the mug and I set them both down on the table in front of him. "Us common folk don't get complimentary wine glasses on our rooms."

Harry plopped down a chair by the window. It was late but with the ever-present jet lag and the strange hours we all kept, neither of us felt the hour. I sat opposite him on the edge of the bed, steadily sipping my wine, not knowing what to say.

"What do you want to do tonight?" Harry broke the silence. "I wouldn't mind more of the same from the other night, but it's up to you." He cracked a gentle smile before rolling his lips into his mouth.

I didn't think I'd ever felt more uncomfortable in my life. There was no graceful way of saying 'I want you to touch me everywhere, thanks.'

I finally settled on, "You should kiss me." Though that didn't feel right from the moment it left my lips.

Harry smiled even wider, looking on the edge of a full laugh. Instead he nodded his head deliberately and set his mug down on the windowsill, patting his lap for me to come sit. I rose slowly, setting my glass next to his, and stood in front of him.

"Come on then." He whispered, looking up at me. His face looked flushed but the lighting in the room was terrible and he could have just been sunburnt. "Nothing we haven't done before."

I mentally grabbed myself by the shoulders and shook. I knew this was stupid. I'm not a little girl. No need to act so damn timid. I took the last step forward between his spread knees and straddled his lap, sitting back on his thighs. I nearly jumped when I felt his fingers wrap around my hips, pulling me forward ever so slightly into him. I braced my hands on the top of the chair just past his shoulders and went for it.

This kiss was different, stronger and with a little more energy. His hands didn't move but his fingertips dug in, pressing deep into my love handles. When we finally pulled apart I tenderly took his bottom lip with me between my teeth and let it snap back. I don't know a single man who hasn't enjoyed that. I gave myself a little wink in my head, causing me to erupt into a gleeful giggle, hiding my face in his neck. Harry brought a hand up to my hair, wrapping his long fingers into my curls.

"I like that." He murmured. Told you.

It didn't take us long to be at it again, his hands running up my back this time, holding me securely into him. I tried to be still, tried not to grind into him explicitly like my body begged me to. I kept one hand securely on his shoulder while the other was pressed between us on his chest. He was emitting an unreal amount of warmth, or maybe we both were. His fingers danced along the hem of my shirt but didn't move any further.

When we separated again, remaining close, breathing heavily into each other's space, Harry said breathlessly, "Do you want to do this?"

I answered entirely too quickly. "Yes. Yes I do." I panted, feeling him pushing against me through our jeans.

That's where the hesitation ended. Harry stood up, taking me with him. One hand braced under my butt and the other on the small of my back. I wrapped my arms around his neck, only letting go when he gently tossed me onto the bed. He came down with me with a grunt, catching himself on his hands braced on either side of my head. He kissed me again, allowing his lips to only linger for a moment on mine before trailing down to my neck, my collarbones, my chest. I went to gasp but his hair tickled my face and it came out as more of a giggle-snort hybrid. I blew his locks away from my mouth and wiggled a bit under his touch.

"Harry." I breathed, trying to sit up slightly on my elbows. I didn't feel so much unsure of what we were doing as unsure of what to expect, what my desired role was supposed to be. I've historically always been terrible at trysts.

"Hmm?" He hummed back in response as he unbuttoned my shirt slowly.

I didn't even know what I wanted to say, so I gave it up and brought my hands down to tug at his t shirt until he allowed me to pull it over his head. I let my hands graze over his stomach and chest, fingers spread wide, as he sat up. I'd seen him topless before, but never felt the heat of his tanned skin or felt the soft curve of his muscles underneath. He took my wrists in his hands and bought them up to his face, kissing my fingertips before pulling me upright to remove my shirt too.

When I flopped back onto the bed, I was surprised that I didn't feel exposed at all, lying there shirtless with my arms above my head. Though I did feel oddly voyeuristic while I watched him remove his belt, shoes, socks and then trousers in front of me. All I could do was grin at him; bemused by how little attempt he put in to making it sexy. Harry didn't rush but he kept his eyes on mine, grinning back as he snapped the waistband of his underwear, clearly hard underneath.

"Want me to take my jeans and knickers off then?" I questioned, laughing softly. "Or do you want to do it?"

He hovered over me, moving my knees apart with his thighs, and took the button of my jeans into his fingers. I got lost in the way the light hit him as he undressed me completely, his warm fingers sliding down my thighs as he pealed my jeans off. I'd never really focused on his face. I must have been the only woman in the world who could say that. The distinct absence of bags under his eyes interested me deeply. He rarely slept, spending entirely too much time holed away in the gym or his room, but whatever he was doing it must be right. My eyes trailed over every inch of his face, from the way his eyelashes curved up above his emerald eyes to the prickly stubble on his defined jawline. I wanted to memorize him in detail, knowing that it would probably be the last time I saw him like that.

He came down next to me, kissing my neck delicately, leaving me to finally notice my nakedness. "Where are you?" He whispered.

"Sorry. I spaced out." I turned on my side to face him, draping one leg over his now bare hips. "I just like your face."

"I like your face too." He mumbled into my hair, rolling up on his elbows to fit his body back on top of mine and slipping a hand down to feel at my core.

In all honesty, first times are rarely a religious experience. I wish I could say Harry was different, the exception to every rule, but he wasn't. He was great, don't get me wrong. I would certainly not complain. He put the work in: spreading me out, lifting me up but the meat of my ass, and rolling his hips into me, but there was no shortage of awkward nose bumps and hair in each other's faces. If anything it made me like him more. There was something so endearing about the way he blew my curls away from my face and apologized about his sweat dripping down onto my chest. I wouldn't have had it any other way.

Afterward, lying on our backs next to each other, legs hanging half off the bed, he cleared his throat to get my attention. "So, um, what do you want to do now?" His voice was slow like honey dripping from a spoon.

I sat up on my elbows, looking around for my clothes scattered on the floor. "My plan," I stated, moving to get dressed. "was to smoke a bowl on the balcony and then maybe read a book or something." I didn't want to sound like I was kicking him out, but I could feel discomfort in the situation pushing all of the steam out of the room.

"So I'll go then?" He said it more like a question, unsure.

"You don't have to go. Really." I was walking toward the bathroom with my shirt and knickers bunched up in my hands.

"I'll stay, if you don't mind." He was standing now too, looking for his own clothes, one hand resting on the back of his neck. His body looked glorious in the weak light of the single lamp. Somehow soft and strong all at once. I couldn't help but stare.

"Stay." I repeated, listlessly, before going into the bathroom and flicking the light on. It was bright enough to stun me, something I needed at that moment. A small wakeup call to remind me of what had just happened.

Thankfully, my reflection didn't show the anxiety welling in my stomach. I looked worn out but happy. I splashed some water in my face, half dressed myself, and walked back out to face Harry, who was now apparently going to stay.


	3. Sleep.

I thought, for some naïve reason, that I could walk away from Harry clean. I thought that maybe we had been a one night thing. Maybe once he’d gotten what he wanted he would stop coming around and I could breathe freely again, because I definitely wasn’t breathing like I used to anymore. I was holding in this mixture of excitement and dread every time I saw him. 

He didn’t leave me alone though. In a way I was grateful. I would gladly hold my breath awhile longer as long as he was gently touching my waist as we passed each other backstage and sneaking up behind me to lay his chin on my shoulder and ask me how my day was.

As the Asian leg of the tour drew to a close, he seemed to come to see me more and more. He appeared needy like I had never known him to be. He was quieter too, almost despondent. I’ve never involved myself in the rumors and chatter flowing endlessly backstage, but there are some things you can’t ignore no matter how hard you try. The word on the street, and in the kitchen, was that there was turmoil in the band it’s self. By our last night in Bangkok it all came to a screeching, fitful head. Zayn had decided to go home.

For the first time in my experience, no one in the crew really wanted to talk about anything. Everyone did their job in relative hush. The air felt heavy and the silence deafening.

I didn’t see much of the band it’s self that day. They had closed ranks and kept to their dressing rooms. Sarah, our lead chef and kitchen queen, opted to take individual trays to them privately. I would be lying if I said I didn’t worry about Harry a bit. He had always spoken of this band like it was something that could last forever and I feared that it may just be coming to an end right here before our eyes.

Back at the hotel that night I resigned myself to my bed, curled up tight, rot with apprehension and uneasiness. Not really for myself. If this ended I could easily find another job. I was worried for the boys, I was worried for the friends I had made on the crew who had devoted their lives to this band, but most of all I was afraid to see it be over like that, abruptly.

I had finally fallen into a fitful sleep when there was a booming knock at my door. I went to jump from my bed but got caught up in the top sheet and more or less tumbled in the direction of the door.

Peering through the peephole I was surprised to see Harry standing there accompanied by a body guard. He was in a tshirt and sweat shorts, hotel slippers on his feet. His hair wasn’t in a bun or even recently combed. He was a mess. A sexy mess but a mess nonetheless.

“I’m sorry if you were asleep.” He started immediately upon me opening the door. I pulled the door open further to let them both in before anyone in the hall saw. Their floors are always blocked off in our hotels but the crew are typically not part of that. At any moment an iPhone-wielding girl could jump around the corner and ruin this night further.

His bodyguard did not come in with him. He simply reminded Harry to call when he needed to go back to his room and slowly wandered off down the hall toward the elevators. I often wondered what they thought of him coming to my room. I wondered how much they knew. Did they laugh to themselves when he didn’t call until morning? Did he tell them about what he was doing or did he keep our secret to himself?

Harry didn’t waste time in removing his shirt and slippers and climbing into my still warm bed. I stood awkwardly, as if it were his room that I were in, instead of the other way around.

“Please get into bed, Malu.” He said, halfway between a whine and a whisper. “I’m sorry to just show up like this but I just need to be with you right now.”

“I…..it’s ok.” Was all I could muster. I didn’t know what he wanted from me. Sex? A cuddle? A blowjob? A chat? I wasn’t entirely sure what was even going on at all. The entire day had been beyond bizarre.

I did what he asked and got back into bed, scooting and wiggling until my back fit perfectly to his chest and his arm draped over me to hold tightly across my body, fingers tucked under my waist. He was warm and smelled freshly showered. I didn’t want to, I fought it desperately, but within minutes I had fallen asleep.

I was woken up to Harry’s phone buzzing frantically on the night stand next to me. I turned a bit under his heavy arm to wake him but the even rise and fall of his chest and the warmth of his breath on my neck begged me not to. Instead I picked the phone up slowly and read the name on the screen. Bas Whalen. I knew Bas well. He’s Niall’s right hand man and a secret gluttonous lover of my cheesecake bites. I decided to answer.

“Good morning, Bas.” I whispered into the phone. “It’s Malu. I know this is weird but Harry is sleeping and I don’t want to wake him just yet.”

Bas laughed a bit. “Nothing is weird to me anymore. But we need him in Liam’s room in 30 minutes. Paddy will be coming to get him soon. Tell him I’m sorry.”

I began hanging up but my finger paused over the button. “Oh, wait! Bas!”

“Yes?” He replied hurriedly.

“Just, you know, please don’t tell anyone about this.” I know I sounded pathetic, and surely they all already knew, but I was hopeful that I could keep my privacy a bit longer.

“Secret’s safe with me, doll.” He chuckled out, and we both hung up.

I wriggled my body to face Harry and slid my hand down his chest to his stomach and rubbed light circles. That’s how my mother used to wake me as a child and I remember it always feeling so gentle and calming. I wanted that for him. I wanted him to feel ok.

I watched his face contort a bit, nose scrunching and lips parting, before he finally opened his eyes to look back into mine.

“Mmm, good morning.” He said slowly, voice deep and cracking a bit.

“Good morning, love.” I nuzzled my face into his neck to avoid either of us catching the other’s morning breath. “Bas called you. You need to get up.”

“You should have told him no.” He laced his hand into my hair and scratched my scalp with the pads of his fingers. “I don’t want to move from right here.”

“Shhh. I know.” I ran my nails lightly over his chest and stomach, hoping to rouse him further from his slumber. “Did you sleep well at least?”

“I slept great. Not a single dream that I remember but it’s the most I’ve slept in some time.” The soothing pace of his speech was beginning to tug me back toward dreamland so I pulled away a bit to get out of bed.

Harry’s hand closed in on my wrist and yanked slightly. “Baby, don’t.” I tried not to smile as wide as I wanted to. It was the first time he ever called me baby. I let myself fall back down, half on top of him, and craned my neck to kiss just under his chin.

“Paddy’s coming to get you, love. We have to get up.” I begged, all the while allowing myself to be wrapped in his warm arms. He pulled me onto him completely and yanked at my tank top.

“Lets just get this off of you.”

I let it happen. I didn’t exactly want to get out of bed either. I let him pull my shirt off and slide his thumbs over my erect nipples. I let him pull my panties back and rub gently at where my body ached for him. I didn’t say a single word of protest when he wiggled his shorts down his hips to settle at his thighs, exposing himself for me to touch. I knew we didn’t have much time but I didn’t care at all.

He let me ride him for a minute or two before pulling me to his chest and taking over, pumping his hips up into me while I bit and sucked gently as his neck and chest. He had one hand on my ass, holding my panties to the side, and the other planted firmly between my shoulders. Our chests were glued together with our sweat and somehow I liked that. Harry has a way of making nasty feel sweet.

When I felt his movements get jerky and quick, close to climax, I took over, rolling my hips rapidly. I loved to watch his eyes glaze over and mouth hang open. Both of his hands dug into my sides, lifting me and pushing me back down until he let go and let his open palms slide down my thighs as he came.

I gave him a smirk to match his goofy grin. “We really do need to get up now.”

“Now I want to even less!” He whined back.


	4. Poison.

The news that Zayn wasn’t coming back started as a slow trickled of rumors throughout crew texts early in the morning. I heard my phone buzzing across the room frantically and leapt from my bed to answer. It was Nora, a friend from wardrobe.

“Malu! Have you heard yet!” She shrieked when I answered.

“Heard what?” I exclaimed, more surprised at the call than the endless disastrous possibilities she could be referring to. I stood in front of the large window and rubbed sleep from my eyes as I watched the sun begin to peak from the horizon.

“Oh my GOD! I’m freaking out!” She continued without cutting to the chase. “You never check your texts. You should.”

“Nora, honestly, what is it?” I was a bit fed up at this point.

“Zayn isn’t coming back! He fucking QUIT!” She practically screamed. I held my phone away from my head as she went on and on and tried to compute what had happened. My brain instantly clicked over to Harry.

“Nora, love!” I snapped accidentally. “I have to go. I’ll talk to you later!” I hung up and quickly began scanning my texts for any sign of Harry.

There was one. All it said was “Baby call me when you wake up. I need you.” and that was enough to send me into an unwarranted panic. Well, maybe a little warranted.

My fingers found his number in my recent calls without me even thinking about it. I was on autopilot, dressing myself and brushing my teeth while I waited for an answer. After the fifth ring I finally heard his voice.

“Hey, baby.” He was hoarse but not in a sleepy way. He always took on a deeper, scratchier tone when he was tired, but this sounded different. He sounded like he’d be crying.

“Harry I just heard the news.” I kept my voice level. I didn’t want to seem as frantic as I was. “How are you holding up?”

He waited a moment before answering. I could hear him take a sip of something and swallow. “Is there any way you can come up? I know it’s early but-“

I cut him off. “No I’m up. I’ll be over in a minute.”

He choked out a pathetic thank you but I didn’t know what to say so I just hung up and hurried out the door.

He answered the door in only his underwear, his long hair hanging down wildly. The moment the door closed he pulled me into his arms and squeezed me tight. I ran my nails along his bare spine, trying to sooth him.

Eventually I pulled away a bit to examine his face for clues as to his emotional state. His face was blotchy and tired. His breath smelled of red wine. He was still beautiful though. He still had the same glow about him that I adored.

“I’m sorry I look a mess.” I started, looking up at him from where he still held me close to his chest. “I forgot to even put knickers on.”

“You’re perfect.” He whispered, planting a kiss on my forehead. We moved to the couch and sat cross-legged facing each other on the plush cushions. He held one of my hands in his, absentmindedly rubbing his thumb back and forth over my knuckles.

“Shouldn’t you be with the boys right now?” I wondered aloud.

“I just want to be alone.” He grumbled out, letting his head fall dolefully.

“You’re not alone if I’m here, nerd.” I tossed back playfully, hoping to get some sort of reaction other than sadness from him.

He merely cracked a tiny, mournful smile. “I like being alone with you. I can think out loud and you don’t judge me.” His words warmed me to my bones. I knew that nothing I said could suck the poison out. He was momentarily broken. Seeing him hurt was heartbreaking on an unreal level. He was usually so eccentric and carefree. It’s easy to forget that when you cut him he bleeds like everyone else. Hearing him say that I was a comfort to him felt amazing.

“I’ll stay as long as you like, love.” Crawling into his lap, I pushed back slightly until he let go and fell back onto the cushion behind him. I squeezed myself into the space between him and the pillows and wrapped my arm over his chest, holding him tight. He ran his fingers up and down my back under my loose t shirt. He was silent for a long time. I listened to his heartbeat, lightly tapping out the rhythm on his arm with my fingertip.

“I don’t know how to be a real person.” He finally spoke.

“You are a real person, Harry.” I replied, trying not to sound motherly.

“No, you know what I mean. I don’t know how to be normal. Like go to work during the week and then come home at night and sleep at a regular time. I don’t know how to make plans further than a week ahead of time. I’ve never had to do that.” He craned his neck down to look at me, so I met him halfway and looked up, bumping my forehead on his chin. “Shit, sorry. But I’m serious. I am either touring and fucked up from that schedule or I’m home and sleeping all day and fucked up from a lack of schedule. How do you just live every day like you know what’s going to happen?”

“You don’t. Even when you’re ‘normal’ life is unpredictable. It doesn’t have to be dull. You can do anything you want really. It’s nice.” I spoke more or less into his neck.

“I just don’t think I want that yet.” His voice sounded heavy now, defeated. “I’m not done doing this. I love this.”

“So is the band going to break up?” I finally asked. I had been thinking it since I heard the news.

“We don’t want to. We decided this morning to keep going but I’m afraid.” His hand was in my hair now, stretching my curls and then letting them bounce back. “What if the fans don’t like us anymore without Zayn?”

“They’ll love you regardless I think.” I was just trying to make him feel better but it did make sense in my mind. “You may lose some fans without him, but just the fact that you’re going to stay together will make most of them happy.”

He hooked both hands under my armpits and pulled me on top of him roughly. “Just kiss me.” And oh God did I kiss him. I didn’t know what to say but I knew how he liked to be touched and kissed and made love to so I gave him everything I had. I put every ounce of passion I could muster into it, real or conjured. I needed to make him forgot. It was a selfish goal, but his smile fueled me and I wanted it to come back.


	5. Not Goodbye.

Saying goodbye wasn’t as hard as I thought it would be. I thought I would cling to him, knowing how close we had grown over the past couple months, but he insisted that he would call often and we would see each other again soon. I knew I would miss his seeing his face in the middle of the night when neither of us could sleep, but the next leg of the tour was just around the corner and surely we would fall right back into it. After all, we were merely friends, right? Friends who fuck and tell each other everything and hide it all from the world.

My flight home was long and cramped. The air seemed utterly stifling. I was queasy and bored and sweaty. When I finally deboarded for my layover in Germany I nearly ran to the nearest bathroom and vomited what felt like a week’s worth of meals into the toilet. My next flight wasn’t much better.

I entered my flat nervously. I had never left home for more than a week at a time before and the thought of all of my worldly belongings existing alone without me made my stomach turn again. I flicked the lights on quickly and rushed from room to room making sure that everything was where I left it.

Once my fears had been quelled, I opened a window, fell back on my bed, and fell asleep almost instantly. I had forgotten how much I loved my bed. Over the next week I woke up only to take a bubble bath or read for a while, always returning to the same spot, curled tightly under my sheets. Jet lag was hitting me particularly hard, and I just didn’t feel like doing much of anything. A few friends called and asked me to go out but my mind was still elsewhere. I needed to decompress for a while.

On my ninth day home, my brother finally came into the city to return my dog Kora. The moment they entered the front door she began pacing around me in a circle, whining excitedly. I lay on the floor with her, letting her lick my face far longer than I otherwise would have.

“She looks good.” I spoke through her fur to my brother. “Thank you so much!”

He sat down next to us, leaning against the door. “You don’t. Jesus. What happened on that tour?”

“Oh shut up!” I half-heartedly held up a middle finger in his direction. “I’ve just been so jet lagged.”

“Did you lose weight?” He questioned, studying me up and down. “You look sickly.”

“No. I don’t know. Maybe. I’ve been having trouble eating lately. I think it’s like when you get so hungry that you’re nauseous and then you want to eat but food is repulsive.”

“I don’t get that way at all.” He said humorously, patting his round belly. “I’ve never been hungry a day in my life!”

“We should do something today. How long are you staying?” I finally sat up, letting Kora curl up in my lap.

“Just a few hours. I have work in the morning and I want to beat traffic.” He stretched his legs out in front of him, bumping his feet into my knee.

“Lets go for a walk or something. I haven’t been outside in aged. We can pick up lunch on the way.” I encouraged. He wasn’t usually much for walking but he didn’t get to the city much so I figured he wouldn’t mind.

I threw on some sweats and trainers, pulled my hair into a loose bun, and we headed out into the street. The sun was blinding. I really hadn’t gone out in days. I was only twenty but I felt eighty.

We walked to a café a few blocks from my flat. Martin went inside while I sat outside with Kora. It was one of those rare days where London looked just like the postcards. The sun was shining, people walked back and forth through the streets chatting to one another, a light breeze blew through. It was perfect.

When Martin returned with two sandwiches and sodas I immediately scarfed down everything in front of me. It was a crumbly cucumber number with entirely too much cream cheese but it tasted like heaven in the moment.

“So tell me everything!” Martin exclaimed, scooting his chair closer to mine. “From what I’ve read in the rags something serious went down. What’s the scoop? What juicy secrets do you have?”

“Nothing juicy, love, sorry. The secrets don’t make it to the kitchen.” I lied.

“Boring.” He sighed dramatically. “Well how did you get on then? Did you have fun? Make friends? All those things mum is always fussing over?”

“I had a good time. It’s much harder work then I thought, feeding all of those people, but I did make a few friends. It’s not a bad gig, really. Getting to travel all over the world and stay in nice hotels.” I tried to keep everything neutral. Truthfully, I didn’t see any of the world. When I wasn’t working I was either with Harry or too tired to go out.

“How are those lads? Are they complete dicks?” He was treading directly into an area that I wasn’t comfortable with.

“No, they’re lovely. Great human beings.” I gave him a coy smile, telling him that I wasn’t going to offer much more.

“I bet they make you say that.” He shoved the rest of his sandwich into his mouth and stood up. “We need to head out. It’s close to time for me to go.”

After we said our goodbyes and Martin was off on his way back to Northampton, I stripped down and drew a bath. I had left my phone on the bathroom counter while we were out so I scrolled through it while I waiting for the water to fill up. I was pleased to see a text from Harry.

“You haven’t talked to me at all. Rude.”

I scoffed openly at my phone and shot back with, “You haven’t talk to me either, knobhead.”

I set my phone back down and got into my bath. The heat stung my skin at first but it felt amazing nonetheless. I was just starting to relax fully in the bubbles when my phone vibrated on the counter.

“Oh, Jesus H!” I exclaimed. It was just far enough away that I would have to get out, but I knew it was Harry. I rose slowly, feeling a bit light headed, and planted one foot on the rug next to the toilet, leaving the other in the tub. I snatched my phone and quickly settled back into the water.

“I didn’t want to seem eager :) What have you been up to?”

I pondered for a moment on telling him something exciting and wild to seem less pathetic, but that just wasn’t me. “I’ve been in bed mostly. Tons of sleep. Its been lovely. My dog came home today! You?” I set my phone on the toilet and swished the bubbles back and forth while I waited for a reply.

“Mostly the same for me. Minus the dog. Nice to be home again. Missed LA.”

I was somehow hoping that he would be in London, or at least England even. Knowing that there were thousands of miles between us seemed strange. Almost as if reading my thoughts, he sent another message.

“Wish you were here.”

I threw my phone lightly onto my towel on the rug and sunk down into the water. Wish you were here. Wished I were there. Fuck.


	6. Secrets.

It had been a fortnight since I’d come home and I hadn’t seen a single one of my friends. I was finally itching to get out so I rang up my best college pal, Beth, and invited her out for a drink.

We met up at pub around the corner. She gave me a huge hug and it was nice to have some human contact again. Pulling back, she held my arms out to look me over.

“It feels like it’s been ages! How are you? You look thin.” She yelled over the music.

I pulled my arms back and crossed them over my chest. “Everyone keeps saying that. I’m well. I’ve missed you.”

We got our drinks and sat at a booth near the toilets to catch up in quiet.

“Tell me everything! What was it like? Are they as hot in person? What happened with Zayn? Are you going to keep working for them? Did you get to hang out with them?” She fired questions at me rapidly once we were settled.

“It was very nice. Hard work. It was an adventure though.” I replied vaguely. 

“Don’t give me that! Tell me what Harry is like at least. Jesus, he’s fit.” She had one elbow on the table and the other holding her vodka cranberry to her face while she sipped from the straw.

I swallowed hard. Do I lie completely and pretend that I don’t know him, or do I tell the truth and leave out the juicy bits? I’m a terrible liar. “He’s such a…..amazing person. Just so sweet and kind and funny. Easy to talk to and…” I trailed off. I had already said too much.

“Wait.” She grabbed my wrist just as I was reaching for my whiskey diet. “You mean you actually TALK to him. Like talk talk. Like you spend time with him?”

“No!” I defended immediately. “I mean, yes. But like he’s a good friend. It’s nothing like…you know.” I wanted to slap myself. Why am I like this?

“OhmygodMalu.” She spat out. She could read me like a damn book. “Oh my God.”

“Beth, no.” I started as she grabbed me by my shoulders and pulled me to face her. “Beth please don’t assume anything.”

“Oh I’m not assuming.” She answered assuredly. “I know that face.” She put one finger up and traced a circle in the air in front of me. “You did something with him. You fucked him didn’t you?”

“Now, Beth.” I stared her down. I had kept this secret so well, why was I spewing it all out now? “It’s not what you think.”

“Nod if I’m right.” She bored into me with her eyes. “Just nod your head once. Up and down. Tell me I’m right.”

“Oh god. I’m not supposed to be talking about this.” I covered my face with my hands and took a deep breath.

“You don’t have to tell me about the sex stuff, though I will feed you drinks until you do. Just tell me if he’s good or not. He looks like he’d be good. Does he smell nice? How did it happen? Did he talk to you after? I hate when they don’t talk to you after. Where did I happen?” She spread her hands out wide in front of her. “Give me the setting so I can imagine.”

“Which time?” I replied bashfully, my face still buried in my hands.

“You did it more than once?” She practically screamed at me. “Holy shit! How many times?”

“Oh I don’t know. I wasn’t counting. Please can we talk about something else? How’s the family? I saw on Facebook at Tyler is getting big.”

“No no no. We are absolutely talking about this.” She took another dramatic sip of her drink. “You bang Harry fucking Styles and you don’t want to talk about it? It’s like you don’t love me at all anymore.”

“Shut up.” I finally got to my drink and took a huge gulp. “I’m not feeling great. I just want to chat about something that doesn’t make me feel so…..weird. You know I love you to death.”

“You’re my best friend. Let me live vicariously though you. I’m just a lonely housewife.” She pouted.

“God. Ok. I will tell you a little bit, but if you ever tell as soul, even your husband, I will murder you in your sleep.” I eyed her sternly, already regretting everything.

“Deal.” She scooted back in her seat to get a better view of me and waited.

“Ok, um, I don’t really know how to do this. He started talking to me at work one day while I was taking a break. He’s really quiet around people but alone he’s so chatty. He’s warm. Like his skin is warm, not like he’s inviting. I mean he is inviting, but also he’s physically really hot.” She waved her hand in the air for me to keep going. “Um, we hung out a bunch in our hotel rooms at night when we couldn’t sleep and then one day I told him that I like him and he kissed me. We were drunk, it was all very stupid. Then a few days later we slept together. It was nice. He’s very accommodating. He doesn’t just lie there. He puts effort forth and he likes to make sure I feel good too and I don’t know.” I stopped abruptly, drinking down the rest of my whiskey.

“You should write romance novels.” She replied sarcastically.

“I’m sorry, it’s just kind of embarrassing.” I grimaced.

“Oh please, I’ll take what I can get.” She brushed my humiliation off. “Is he sweet or is he one of those 100-pack-of-condoms-in-the-dresser kind of guys? Did you stay the night together or just fuck? Does he kiss a lot during? Kevin always wants to kiss while we’re fucking but I just don’t, I don’t know why. Is he big? Tell me he’s big.”

“He’s very sweet. He mostly just kisses my neck and chest, not really my mouth while we…you know. And we don’t use condoms so I have no idea how many are hidden in his room at any given time. And he’s just right.” I answered quickly, just trying to survive the interrogation.

“No condom. Risky. What if he’s riddled with diseases?” She mused. “Then you’re on the pill, good. Because I was taking Zoely but I think it was making me fat so I stopped that one. Which are you taking? I need to try something new.”

“Er…no. I’m not on the pill either.” I rubbed the back of my neck uncomfortably. “He just kind of…pulls out.” It sounded so stupid now that I said it out loud.

“Malu, what the fuck.” She scolded. “You are a grown woman. You should know better.”

“It’s fine. Everything is fine. I just wasn’t really having much sex before and I’m bad about keeping up with medication. I think I may look into it though. But please, can we talk about you for a bit? This is giving me a headache.”

Two hours and countless visits to the bar later, she had filled me in on everything I had missed in my time away. I was exhausted so we called it a night and I put her in a cab and walked home, kicking myself the entire way for telling my biggest secret so easily. It felt nice for someone else to know though.

 

A few days later, I was woken up at an ungodly hour with the immediate urge to puke. I hadn’t eaten anything weird. I hadn’t been running a fever or feeling unwell. I played back my conversation with Beth over and over in my head. There was no way. This wasn’t happening.

Once I had emptied my stomach completely into the toilet, I more or less ran to my luggage, still sitting half packed on the floor and dug for my day planner. Finally finding it near the bottom I quickly swept through the pages looking for something I desperately needed to see. Several pages back, in bright pink ink, there it was. A bold letter P. I looked at the date.

“Oh God.” I mumbled to myself, my hand covering my mouth. It was ten weeks ago. My period was over a month late. I sat back against the wall and cried. I hadn’t cried in over a year. I hadn’t had a reason to. Now seemed like as good a time as any.


	7. Worry.

“I’m sorry, babe! I’m in the car! Can I call you back?” Beth bellowed. I was clearly on speaker.  
“I need to talk to you. Are you alone?” It was nearly noon but I was still in my nightshirt, sitting in the center of my bed throwing a tennis ball across the flat for Kora.  
“Oh Darling, if this is about the other night I’m so-“  
I cut her off, simply stating, “I’m pretty sure I’m pregnant.” Saying it out loud made my stomach churn. I was still cringing every time I even thought it.  
I could hear her whisper “Holy shit.” and I almost laughed. “I’ll be over in a hour, I just need to take Tyler home to Kevin. Do you need anything?”  
“Um, like a million pregnancy tests I think. And a ton of advice.” I trailed off. “Oh! And maybe some sweets?” What I needed was a drink.  
While I waited for Beth, I paced anxiously, trying desperately not to think and failing. Nearly every possible scenario passed through my mind. What if I am pregnant? What if Harry freaks out? Shit, what if I freak the fuck out? What if I lose my job or quit my job or actually end up mothering a child? Oh my God.  
Thankfully, Beth was quick and before I had a chance to lose it completely she was at my door. “Malu, darling!” She spoke softly, pulling me into a tight embrace. “You look shitty.”  
“Jesus, what the hell?” I spat back.  
“No, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean like that. You just look so worried.” She backpedaled a bit. “Here, I’ve got the kits, lets do this.” She held up a paper bag. I peered inside at the four white and pink boxes. Why are female products always pastel colors? Is it supposed to sooth us? I didn’t feel very soothed.  
We went into the bathroom and emptied the boxes onto the counter. There was eight tests, each individually wrapped and ready to get peed on by your truly.  
“This is it.” I sighed. “This is my future right here.”  
“Oh don’t think like that.” She brushed a bit of hair from my face. “Just piss and pray, baby.” I chuckled at her and pushed her from the room, happy to wee in peace.  
I took every test, lining them up on the counter in a perfectly even line. I didn’t want to look at them. They say to wait a few minutes but I could see the colors changing instantly and it was maddening.  
I sat on the edge of the tub and called for Beth. She came running in with a chocolate hanging half out of her mouth. “What do they say? Did you look yet?” She exclaimed excitedly.  
“No. Shit. You look.” I covered my face with my hands and slumped over.  
She stared down at the tests blankly for entirely too long. “Well.” She exhaled through pursed lips, puffing her cheeks out. “So.” I threw a leg out to kick her lightly, urging her to just say it. “It looks like you are definitely pregnant.”  
I jumped up and looked for myself. All eight showed two strong pink lines, clear as day. I wanted to speak but I just couldn’t. I went straight to my bed and burrowed under the covers. After a few minutes I felt the mattress lower next to me and Beth’s arm come over mine to pull me into a cuddled.  
“It’s going to be ok, baby.” She whispered. “Everything will work out.”  
My eyes welled up with tears. I tried to fight them back but the lump in my throat was too much to bear. “I don’t know what to do. I can’t be a mum. I don’t know how.”  
“Hey. It’s ok. I didn’t know how to either but I learned.” Her voice was peaceful and slow. I didn’t want to think so I didn’t. I just let myself breathe. There was plenty of time to freak out. 

A few hours and enough chocolates to put both of us into a diabetic coma later, we were in generally the same place we were before. “I can’t be a mum, Beth.” I stated bluntly.  
“Look at me.” She grasped both of my shoulders and pulled me to face her. “You do have options.” I replied with a simple pouty face so she continued. “There’s loads of different types of adoptions out there. Some of them even let you see the baby from time to time. Or you could get rid of it if you really need to.”  
“I can’t do that.” I responded. I have never put much thought into it, but as pro-choice as I am fundamentally, that just isn’t a choice I felt that I had for myself. “I have to have the baby.” It felt odd to speak of an actual baby, a human being growing inside of me. I felt queasy.  
Just then, my phone vibrated on the coffee table. It was Harry.  
“Facetime later? I’d like to chat for a bit.”  
“Ah!” I threw my phone down. “It’s him!”  
Beth picked my phone up and looked at the screen. “This is perfect. You can tell him.”  
“Oh no. No no. I can’t tell him.” I sounded crazy. I felt crazy.  
“You’ll have to tell him eventually. You can’t turn up at work pregnant and pretend he wont find out.” She reasoned, pushing my phone into my lap. “Tell him you’ll talk to him.”  
My head was spinning. A year ago my hardest decision was whether or not to go to class. Now I had to figure out how to tell one of the most famous men in the entire world that I’m pregnant with his baby. It was too much.  
“I’m not going to tell him.” I decided with finality. “He can figure it out for himself or not, I don’t care. But I’m not telling him.”  
“That is literally the most idiotic thing you could do, but whatever. It’s your life. “ She threw her hands in the air, defeated. “The most important thing to think about is the baby. You need to see your gynecologist and get your health sorted first.”  
We talked for another hour about what I needed to do. I had to tell Sarah at least. She was my employer and she needed to know that something was going on with me. If she fired me, fine. I would deal. 

A week later I saw my doctor. She referred me to another doctor. They had me take blood tests and pee some more and finally reached the conclusion that I was nine weeks pregnant and in relatively good health. They gave me tablets to take and pamphlet after pamphlet. It was all a complete whirlwind, but I was just letting it wash over me. Nothing I could do now but wait.  
I didn’t answer Harry’s texts, as infrequent as they were. I didn’t feel right lying to him so I just chose to say nothing at all. It was a terrible thing to do, but I had to look out for myself. I was leaning toward adoption. Maybe an open adoption where I could pick the parents and get updates on how the baby was doing. It sounded nice to be able to keep up with them even if I wasn’t quite ready to be their mum.  
I had read that if the father of the child didn’t have legal parental responsibility that they didn’t have to sign for the baby to be adopted. Sadly, that was comforting to hear. It meant that I didn’t need to tell Harry at all if I didn’t want to. 

As the start of the European leg of the tour loomed closer, I decided to finally meet with Sarah and accept my fate. She agreed to carve half an hour out of her day for me and we met in her office in North London.  
“Malu!” She bellowed from across the room when I walked in. “Please tell me you aren’t quitting! Nina quit and Nora is going to miss the first week. I can’t take any more bad news, love.”  
“No, um, not quitting exactly.” I responded, sitting across from her at he desk. “I have to tell you something though, and you will probably sack me if I’m honest.”  
“Oh Lord, please.” She mocked prayer at the ceiling. “Please let this day not get worse.” She was in a rare state. She’s usually calm and collected, but the week before tour is a scramble for everyone. “Out with it, then.” She urged.  
“I’m pregnant.” I had said it out loud a million times in my flat, trying to get used to the phrase. It was starting to work.  
She screamed and jumped from her desk. “You are? You are!” She ran around and hugged me, her round frame engulfing me completely. “That’s wonderful! I didn’t know you were dating, but that’s just great.”  
“I’m not. Actually it’s a bit of a mess right now, but I figured I needed to let you know.” My cheeks burned. I had decided that I despised telling people of my situation.  
“I’m glad you did. I’ll keep you away from the heavy lifting and we’ll work on finding some less taxing things for you. Just let me know what you need and we’ll try our best to meet in the middle.” She explained.  
“You’re not going to sack me?” I was confused. How exactly was I supposed to be on a five month tour while pregnant? I did the math. I would be nearly eight months along by the time the tour ended. I thought of all the stress and lack of sleep and long hours.  
“If you think you can manage, I would love to keep you on the team.” She confessed happily. “You work hard and you work smart. You keep out of everyone’s drama. You’re a dream to be in a kitchen with. I can’t lose you.”  
“It’s such a long time, what if I’m not of much use after awhile?” I was beginning to talk myself out of going on the tour altogether.  
“Look, if you can’t stay for the entirety, we can make it work. I just need you through September. If you decided to take off after the North American leg I’ll understand.” She was sitting on top of her desk now, her knees level with my face. She didn’t look down on me with disgust or pity like I thought she would, but in a motherly way. She seemed genuinely happy for me.  
“Ok, yes. I can do that.” I stated.  
“Oh thank God.” She finally exhaled. “Can you come in tomorrow? We need to sort the menus and ordering.”  
“Yeah. Yes. Of course I can.” And with that she hopped down and pulled me into another tight embrace, this time kissing the top of my head. I honestly had no idea what I was going to do next.


	8. Cold.

I was more nervous in Cardiff than I was my first day on the job. I knew he was in the stadium. I knew he was close. I swear I could feel him in my bones. All I could do was keep my head down and do my job.   
The first day buzz was wild. Everyone was on their toes, moving swiftly and with purpose through the halls, scrambling to get everything finished in time. Sarah and I had to pick up the slack due to two absent employees and it was all I could do to keep from puking. Sarah kept a close eye on me, though, shoving bottles of water into my hand every time we had a lull and forcing me to go outside for a few minutes every hour. I didn’t want to make more work for her, but it was nice to have someone looking out for me.   
It was during one of my short breaks that I finally saw him. I was leaning against the cinderblock wall in the shade when three security guards rounded the corner not five feet in front of me. Directly behind them, walked Harry. I swore I could see an actual aura coming off of him he looked so good. He had on tight black jeans and ratty old boots with a truly obnoxious brown floral shirt that he had barely bothered to button at all. His long hair was pushed back by his sunglasses. I was too busy gawking to notice that they were headed straight for me.  
“Malu!” He shouted, stopping their well-armored train and closing the space between us quickly on his own. He threw an arm around me and pulled me in. I had missed the smell of his aftershave and shampoo, woodsy and deep. “Why are you ignoring me?” He craned his neck down to press a warm kiss to my forehead.   
My mind went blank. I hadn’t actually bothered to come up with what I was going to say to him once I saw him. “I, um,” I choked out, clearing my throat roughly. “Sorry. I’ve just been busy. I haven’t been intentionally ignoring you.”   
He eyed me suspiciously, taking a step back. “I’m inclined to believe you. You’ve never lied to me before.” His tone was humorous but it stung. After an awkward moment of staring each other down, he looked back at Alberto who tapped his watch. “I have to go. But I want to see you tonight if you can.”  
“Yeah, that sounds good.” I lied. “I’d love to.”   
He lunged forward quickly and kissed my forehead a second time. “Ok. Good. Great. I’ll see you tonight.” And with that he was ushered away, leaving me to finally take a breath. 

My day finally ended around midnight. My legs felt like they were made of cement as I drug myself down the hotel hall and into my room. Sarah had made me take a box of grilled chicken and steamed broccoli when I left, but I didn’t feel like I could eat it so I stowed it away in the microwave and laid fully clothed on the bed waiting for Harry’s inevitable call.   
It came not fifteen minutes later. I insisted that I was exhausted but he wasn’t having it. He sounded selfish and needy and I didn’t have the energy to argue. I am historically not very good at saying no to him.   
I didn’t want to see him but I desperately did all at once. The moment I laid eyes him standing in his doorway, jeans unbuttoned and slung low on his hips, the smile on his face framed by his unruly hair, I wanted to tell him everything. I wanted to hear him tell me that I was going to be ok and we were going to be ok and somehow maybe all of this would work out. I didn’t though. I didn’t tell him. I faked a smile and kissed the grin right off of his face.   
Before I had a chance to make it uncomfortable, we were in his bed. This time was breathless and fast: me clawing at his back, him crawling over me to tear my clothes off. We didn’t talk or test the waters. We fucked. All I could do was react to him.   
He flipped me on stomach and took me from behind, pressing his hand down between my shoulder blades to hold me down while he fucked me into the mattress. We had never been like this before but I kind of liked it. I guess this meant he missed me.   
He bent down to whisper into my ear. “Spread your ass out so I can see that pretty pussy, baby.” I gasped at how vulgar his statement was but complied. He fucked me like he wasn’t afraid to break me, hard and heartless, but I was completely falling apart inside. I didn’t want this.   
I pulled my legs together quickly and pushed a hand back to press his hips back. “Stop.” I ordered. And he did.   
“Are you ok? Too deep?” He replied, dumbfounded, sitting back on his heels. I crawled out of his bed and began gathering my clothes as quickly as I could, trying to get out the door before my tears began to fall.   
He stepped off of the bed after me and stood in the center of the room, completely naked and confused. “Malu, stop.” He took a few steps toward me, but I was too busy yanking my jeans over my legs to take note. “Baby what did I do? Was I too rough? I’m sorry. I wont do it again.”   
“No,” I held my hand out to keep him from coming closer. I didn’t want him to look at me. I didn’t want him to touch me. I didn’t want to lie to him anymore. “Just leave me alone, Harry.”  
He went back to his bed to pull his underwear on and then came right back toward me. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” He spat out angrily. “First you ignore me for a fucking month and now this? What did I do?”   
I didn’t bother putting my sweater on. I was cold enough to shiver hard, but I didn’t feel it anymore. I didn’t feel anything anymore. Just the cool gust of air hitting my face as I slammed his door closed. I felt it over and over again. I felt it all the way down the hall, into the elevator, and into my own room. I felt it in the shower and on the balcony as I let myself cry freely. It didn’t leave me. 

In the morning I felt raw, broken open. My heart felt like a weight pulling me into the floor. Half of me wanted to call him and just tell him. Just pull the bandage off and take the consequences. The other half of me screamed run.   
I was still lost in thought when I walked into the kitchen at eight thirty and was instantly face to face with Harry. He was sitting on the counter eating an apple while Sarah lectured him knowingly, chopping vegetables on the cutting board next to him.   
When he saw me he visibly tensed up, hopping down from the counter and kissing Sarah on the cheek. “I have to go, Mummy. I’ll talk to you later.”   
“Oh don’t call me that, you nutter.” She scoffed, not even bothering to look up as he strode off, making a wide berth around me.   
“What was that about?” I inquired, trying to sound as uninvolved as possible.   
“Girl troubles, you know.” She sighed and stretched a piece of saran wrap over the top of a pan. “Nothing new for him, unfortunately. Poor little peach always seems to be on the wrong end of love. Sometimes it’s nice to have someone objective to tell your secrets to, I suppose.”  
“Girl troubles.” I bite down on my lip hard. “Did he say who?”  
“Well that wouldn’t be much of a secret if I told you now would it.” She laughed. “He just had a bumpy night. He’ll survive.”  
I put the potatoes I had barely started peeling to the side and turned toward her. “Can I tell you a secret too?”  
“Of course, dear! Everyone does.” She wiped her hands on her apron and gave me her full attention.   
“I haven’t told the father that I’m pregnant.” I admitted, my cheeks burning with shame. “I saw him and I knew I needed to tell him but I didn’t. I don’t know how to.”  
She smiled back to me knowingly. “I can’t make you do anything you don’t want to do, but you need to tell him. Everything will come out in the wash, dear.” She turned back to her cooking and left me just as confused as I was before.   
“How?” That was all I really needed to know. How. Step by step, how do I say it? How do I open the floor for him to break my heart if he wants to? How do I open my mouth and make this about both of us and not just me?   
She didn’t look at me. She smiled though. Smiled wide. “Harry’s a tough nut to crack, Malu, but he’s in love with you and he’s a good man. Just tell him.”   
I dropped my paring knife on the floor, nearly onto my foot. “Shit. Wait. How do you know?”  
“I’ve known about you two since probably before you even knew. Everyone tells me everything, dear. It’s why I’m here. I’m the confidant.” She knew. All this time she knew about us. I was embarrassed and angry and thankful all at once. I felt lightheaded. “Take a break. Get some air.” She instructed and I gladly took her advice.


	9. Grasp.

“He’s in love with you.” He’s in love with you. He’s in love with me. He isn’t. He doesn’t know me well enough to be in love with me. My mind was like a racetrack, thoughts whizzing by so quickly I couldn’t process them. I knew what I had to do. I knew I had to just put everything out in the open. No shame. I didn’t get pregnant on my own. He had to be understanding, he always was. 

I didn’t actually see him for three days. The long hours in the kitchen were taking their toll and my feet and back were constantly sore. All I could do was sleep and work. They don’t tell you that about pregnancy. They never tell you that even in the beginning when you’re still physically in the same general shape you were in before, you still feel like a giant nauseous bruise all the time.   
We had a few days off in Vienna so I took the opportunity to finally see something of the world for once. A few of us did the tourist thing and visited Kunsthistorisches Museum and St. Stephen’s Cathedral. The architecture was stunning. I felt so miniscule standing in those buildings, taking in hundred of years of history and art. My problem felt smaller too. For the first time in weeks, I felt calm.   
When I returned to the hotel that night, energized by my day, I rang Harry. I didn’t want to text. I wanted to hear his voice and hear if he was actually interesting in speaking to me or not.   
“Yes.” He answered sharply.  
“Harry, love.” I cleared my throat, a lump rising quickly. “I’d like to talk to you about something.”  
He was silent for a moment. I wasn’t sure if he’d hung up or not. “I’d like to talk to you too. Come up?” His tone was inviting. I had missed it. I had missed talking things out with him. He was one of my closes friends. The person I told every tiny truth to. He deserved to know.

I must have stood at his door for five minutes before I finally knocked. I had a speech planned but I had already forgotten it. My jeans felt too tight and my hair heavy. My body was rebelling against me. Fight or flight I suppose.   
He opened the door in sweats and a Rolling Stones shirt. White was such a good color for him. “Come in.” He looked like he knew something was going to go down. I eyed him suspiciously as we sat down on the couch. He turned off the tv and wrung his hands together.   
“I don’t want to do this here.” I jumped up. “Lets sit outside. I need air.” My neck was sweaty and I could feel my cheeks getting warm. He followed me wordlessly out to the balcony.   
“Better?” He asked, sliding the door closed quietly. I nodded in response, swallowing hard. “What do you want to talk about? What going on with you?”  
I must have repositioned myself a million times in a span of 30 seconds but I just couldn’t get comfortable. I settled on sitting cross-legged on the sun lounger and looked out at the black night sky. “I’m pregnant.” The words tumbled from my lips before I could second-guess myself. I didn’t mean to just say it, but maybe it was better that way.  
I didn’t look at him but I could see him sit back in his seat, more like fall, dramatically from the corner of my eye. “Are you sure?” He questioned, his tone hushed.   
“I’m very sure. Got the doctor’s note to prove it.” I glanced over to see him on his back with his knees drawn up to his chest and one arm wrapped around them, the other hand covering his mouth.   
“How-how long have you known?” he spoke more clearly now, rolling to his side a bit to look at me.   
“The day I stopped talking to you was the day I found out.” I admitted. It sounded as messed up as it was and I hated even saying it.  
“Why did you stop talking to me? Why didn’t you just tell me?” His eyebrows were raised, widening his eyes. He looked so innocent and hurt. “That was a month ago. Why?”  
I closed my eyes tight, feeling tears coming. I hate crying in front of people. “I didn’t want you to be mad or hate me. I don’t know, Harry. I’m sorry.” I choked out.  
He stood from his chair and I expected him to go inside and leave me there alone. I was ready to break down. I was ready for the worst. Instead he sat down next to me and put an arm over my shoulder, squeezing me into him.   
“I could never hate you, baby.” He whispered into my hair, pressing a hard kiss to the side of my head. He sat back, his arm still over me. “So what do we know?”  
“What?” I spoke through my tears, surprised and confused and lost in my own mind.   
“You said you’ve seen a doctor. What did they tell you? How far along are you?” He sounded almost happy.   
I looked up at him with a little more shock on my face than I meant, my mouth hanging open. “I’m, uh, eleven weeks yesterday. Healthy. All is well, I suppose, in that respect.” I suppressed my sobs, but I knew I sounded downright pathetic.   
“That’s good.” He stated bluntly, wiping a tear from my eye with his thumb. “Are you feeling well?” He look at me with pity, a tiny empathetic smile on his face.   
“Not really. I don’t feel like I need to be sick all the time anymore but now I’m just….I don’t know, sore?” I took a deep breath, willing myself to stop blubbering. “Like I just ache. It’s getting better though.”  
“Eleven weeks.” He looked out at the dark landscape over the railing, raising his chin to slowly scratch his neck. “When are you due?”  
“The end of December. The 22nd.” It felt to strange to discuss things like my due date and pregnancy pains with him. I had been expecting a fight. I don’t know why. He’s not even the type. I just assumed and I was so completely and dreadfully wrong.   
“Ah!” He clapped his hands on his knee. “A Christmas baby. That’s lovely.”  
“I’m, uh, I’m not going to keep the baby.” I stuttered out. “I’m going to give it up for adoption.”  
“What? Why?” He stared at me in shock. “You’ve already decided?”  
“I can’t keep it, Harry.” I tried my best to sound logical. It was the best plan I could come up with. I didn’t want to put a damper on the mood, but I couldn’t sit around and idly dream about some magical future where we knew what we were doing. “I can’t be a mum. I’m only twenty. I’d make a wretched mum.”  
“I’m only 21 but I think I could be a dad.” he argued.   
“You want to be a dad at 21?” I asked him in genuine surprise. “You want to bring a baby into all of this mess?”  
“This mess is my life and I happen to love it.” He was getting heated. I had insulted him without even knowing and now he was angry. “I know it isn’t ideal, but what is all of this for if we have a chance to have a family and we don’t take it?”  
“A family!” I spat out more loudly than I had intended. “We aren’t even in a relationship and now you want to be a family and you want me to be a mum? You’re delusional, Harry!”   
“We could be!” He yelled back, matching my tone. “We could be together!”  
“No.” It was all I could muster. I didn’t have a reason or compelling reply, just simply no.   
“Why not?” He squeezed my hand tightly in his, trying to make me react. “Why can’t we just try? I’m only asking you to try, Malu. Just feel it out with me and we can decided all of this together. We’ve got plenty of time.”  
“It isn’t deciding if you’ve got your mind made up.” I stated with finality. I knew the argument wasn’t over but I was certainly over it. My heart and mind couldn’t take any more for the night. I wanted to shut down and shut off. I needed to sleep.   
“I could say the same to you.” He shot back, but he didn’t sound angry anymore. He sounded exhausted too.   
We sat silent for several minutes, taking in the sounds of the city around us. Nine floors below there were people laughing in the street, the sound carrying all the way back up to us. Car horns blasted in the distance. The faint sounds of traffic lulled like a steady pulse through all of it.   
“This is our first actual argument you know.” I laid my head on his shoulder and wiped the running mascara from under my eyes.   
“A milestone.” He chuckled softly. “It had to happen eventually.”  
“What are we going to do, Harry?” I knew he didn’t have an answer. It had barely set in for me and I had known for a month. There was no way it had set in for him.   
“We’re going to go to bed.”


	10. Beat

“G’morning.” Harry mumbled, shoving a piece of toast into his mouth.  
I rubbed my eyes a little too hard then squeezed them shut to recover. The sun was pouring in from the open curtains. Harry was lying next to me, propped up with pillows on the headboard. His hand held his phone up on his bare chest while he ate.   
“You got food. Let me have some.” I pulled his tray over towards my side of the bed. I was hoping for bacon or even a sausage or two, but it was nothing but fruit and toast.   
“Did you know that the baby is roughly the size of a fig?” He asked, staring down at his phone intently.   
“Jesus.” I muttered in exasperation and rolled back over, leaving the ruddy breakfast to sit.   
“What? No, listen. The baby’s already got fingers and toes.” He tried to pull the duvet off of me but I pulled back, tucking it under my body and hiding. “And bones!”  
He set his phone and then the tray down on the floor and crawled across the bed to me.   
“Wake up, Malu.” He crooned, straddling my thighs. “Wake up.”  
“No.” I said defiantly, grabbing a pillow to cover my face.   
“Let me see your belly.” He started pulling my t shirt up but I stopped him. “Come on.”  
“There’s nothing to see.” I murmured into the pillow.  
“If there’s nothing to see then show me.” I let go of the hem of my shirt and brought my hands up to lift the pillow covering my eyes.   
His face was nothing short of adorable as he raised my shirt to just under my breasts and smoothed his hands down my stomach.   
“You do have a little bump.” His hands were warm as they cradled the tiny mound at the bottom of my abdomen.   
“You’re imagining things.” I sat up on my elbows and looked down. As much as I hated to admit it, he was right. Under his long fingers you could clearly see the rise in my belly that was never there before. I wiggled my legs under his butt. “Get up, love. I have to go to work.”

The weeks seemed to fly by in a blur. Nora joined Sarah and I in the kitchen after the second week out. Having a third person made a world of difference but it still didn’t feel like nearly enough.   
Hiding my pregnancy with Harry and Sarah both hovering over me like overprotective mothers was not easy, so by the time the European leg was over it looked like everyone knew there was something strange going on. It seemed that every time I so much as sighed someone was asking me if I needed to sit down. It was maddening.   
Harry had agreed to take every day as it came with me. I wasn’t ready to rule anything out just yet. We didn’t move quickly, relationship wise, either. The last thing I needed was to be his next girlfriend rumor in the papers. Everything had to stay hush-hush for now. 

At Harry’s request, I flew into Los Angeles a week before everyone else did for the North American leg, and after much goading on his part, had decided to get on with a doctor in LA. I didn’t want some ritzy American doctor who would put me on a million tablets and force an organic vegan high fiber diet down my throat, but his reviews seemed great and after all, if I hated him I still had time to change my mind.   
I was picked up at LAX in a black Range Rover driven by Lou Teasdale. We had become quite friendly on the tour and she could be sweet, though sometimes brash.   
“Ello!” She called out to me in her thick Yorkshire accent as I got into the passenger seat. “How’s the flight?”  
“Long. But fine.” I answered, buckling my seatbelt and fishing my phone out of my purse to turn it on. “I didn’t know you live in America.”  
“I don’t.” She chuckled. “I’m just visiting. Harry said he was going to send a car for you but I told him I’d get you instead.”   
“Well thank you.” I wanted to sound pleasant, even in my tired state, but I couldn’t help but wonder what she knew. “Is Harry busy today? I haven’t gotten to speak to him since last night.”  
“Ah no. Jus been waiting around for you, I think.”   
I stayed quiet while she drove, watching the city go by and listening to her sing along to the radio. I had never been to America before. They say it’s completely different but I didn’t quite understand until I saw it. Los Angeles appeared to be an entire city made of signs.   
Nearly an hour later, we pulled into a neighborhood lined with trees in the hills. It was beautiful, though I couldn’t see a single home. There were nothing but high walls, some covered in vines, some looking clean and brand new, with only gated driveways separating them.   
We pulled into a particularly forested drive and Lou rolled her window down to punch a code into a little keypad jutting out from the wall. I should have known, Harry is bloody Tarzan after all.   
When the gate opened and we pulled in, I was completely in awe of the house sitting in front of me. It was all wood and windows nestled in a cocoon of oak trees and vines. It felt like another world.   
“Home sweet home, innit.” Lou stated, watching me clearly aghast at this absolute palace Harry lived in.   
Harry was waiting for us on his front steps clad in nothing but sunglasses and yellow swim trunks. He smiled wide when I got out of the car and my heart fluttered. I ran to him and he engulfed me in a long hug.   
“Thank you, Lou.” He spoke over my shoulder as Lou walked past us and into the house. “How was your flight? Are you feeling well?” He asked me.   
“Yeah. It was good. I’m good. Just tired.” I pulled away from him reluctantly. His skin was so warm and I was so exhausted. I just wanted to crawl into his arms and sleep for a week. “Harry, your house. It’s nuts, mate.”  
He smiled shyly, his dimples showing themselves again. “Thanks. It’s better inside. Do you want to eat or nap?” God he knew me so well.   
He was right. The inside was even better. Modern clean lines but still homey and welcoming. It wasn’t the kind of stuffy house where you were afraid to touch anything, but it was simple. I loved it. I had never been inside of his home and he had never been in mine. I hadn’t realized that fact until he walked me to his bedroom, carrying my suitcase and backpack. We had always seen each other in the context of hotel rooms, but never how we actually lived. Never in our own spaces.   
His room was soft. That’s the only real word to explain it. Just soft. Everything was white and bathed in light from the massive windows all around. It was like standing in the middle of a cloud. White sheer curtains hung on either side of his bed. Oh his bed. It took everything I had no to drive straight into it the moment I entered the room. It looked so comfortable that I actually whined a bit.   
“Harry, I’m so tired. Would you be mad if I just went to sleep? I’m sorry.” I apologized as I slipped my shoes off and began undressing.   
“Of course not.” He pulled his sunglasses from where they were propped on his head holding his hair back and placed them on the dresser. “I’m going to sleep with you though. I missed you.”  
“I missed you too.” I slipped into his bed and audibly sighed. It felt amazing to just lie down. “Nice touch sending Lou. Did you tell her?”  
He stripped off his swim trunks and got into bed behind me, sliding his hand around to my stomach to cup my tiny bump. “I did. She wanted to know what was going on with us. She was going to find out eventually. Did she say something to you?”  
“No.” I yawned out. “She didn’t but she seemed like she knew.”  
He kept talking but I didn’t hear any of it. It was all background noise as I slipped off into a blissful sleep. 

The Fourth of July was apparently much more significant than I had originally thought. Everything in Los Angeles appeared to be draped with or spray-painted as an American flag.   
“Two Brits in America on Independence Day.” I laughed from the passenger seat of Harry’s ancient and quite clunky white Mercedes. “We do love to live dangerously, don’t we.”  
“I want you to come to a friend’s house with me tonight.” He stated, peering into his rearview mirror suspiciously. Everyone is a paparazzi in LA and the last thing we wanted was to get followed driving to an OB/GYN’s office together. That’s one rumor I don’t think anyone could brush off. “The Azoff’s are having a party. We’re going to grill and swim and have some drinks. Well, no drinks for you, but should be good fun.”  
We pulled into the parking garage of a smart and extremely expensive looking building. “It’s not like I’m doing much else.” I smiled and reached over to squeeze his hand. “Lets go look at this baby.”  
The waiting room was sea foam green and decorated with what appeared to be thousands of portraits of mothers and babies. I hadn’t felt so uncomfortable in years. I was just going to reach over and bother Harry out of his iPhone-related stupor when my name was finally called.   
“Mrs. Stryder?” the nurse called out loudly, though there were only two other people in the waiting room and I’m sure they could hear just fine. “Malu Stryder?”  
I followed her closely, Harry a few paces behind me, into a rather tiny pastel room. I obeyed her instructions and sat on the examining table while she took my blood pressure and asked a million questions. Harry looked like he was going to chew all the way through his bottom lip if he wasn’t careful.   
The doctor came in not ten minutes later and you know what? He was absolutely lovely. I was surprised, but pleasantly so. He told me to call him Dennis instead of Dr. Hutton. His hands were warm and his voice was jovial. I didn’t feel completely calm, but close enough.   
He had me lie down while he measured my miniscule but growing bump. “13 centimeters. You’re measuring on the low end of perfect. I couldn’t ask for more.” He smiled and reached into his lab coat pocket for a clunky little device. “Are you ready to hear the heartbeat?”   
I gulped hard. No I wasn’t ready. I mean I was, but god, a heartbeat. A real person. A living person. Inside of me. All I could do was turn my head to the side and look over at where Harry was sitting while Dr. Hutton pressed the little machine to my stomach.   
Harry’s eyes widened and his face cracked into a smile when the room was filled with the “Wishh-Wishh-Wishh” sound of the baby’s heartbeat. I could feel the weight in my eyes building. I knew I was going to cry. I didn’t want to but it was coming all the same. This baby was real. This wasn’t some scary metaphor or massive mistake. This was a living human being that Harry and I had made together, whether we intended to or not, and though I didn’t tell him for quite some time, my mind was made up right then and there.


	11. Tell.

There is a decisive defining moment in every relationship where you feel like it could last forever. You feel intrinsically linked to one another and there is genuinely no end in sight. For Harry and I, that moment was sitting in his car on Sunset Blvd looking at the printed photos of my first ultrasound. We saw our baby. We saw the tiny hands and feet and steadily beating heart that we had created. Both of us were lost for words. All we could do was stare.  
We were supposed to be at a party. We were supposed to be celebrating the Americans overthrowing us nasty Brits and taking their country for themselves. Today was supposed to be a different kind of celebration, but we were locked in our own world, a world built for only two. It took us an absolute eternity to even go inside. 

The rest of the day was a blur. Harry held tightly to my hand for most of the party, introducing me to everyone in the Azoff family. They were all quite lovely, though clearly born into privilege. Their home was a sprawling estate with exponentially more rooms than people. American royalty.  
From the moment I saw their massive pool, all I wanted to do was get into the water. The heat was bearing down on my neck in the mid day sun when Harry suggested we hop in. The problem was my bikini. From the way my body is built, it was beginning to become quite clear that my little belly was a baby and not just a big meal.  
“Everyone will see my belly though.” I reasoned with him. I could be outing myself in front of thirty strangers right then and there.  
“Nobody will notice, babe.” He took a long gulp of his white wine. “And if they do, maybe it’s for the best.” He was right. At some point, everyone who saw me would know. Pregnancies don’t stay secret long.  
The pool felt incredible and we swam around for nearly an hour, kids constantly tackling Harry and climbing all over him. After awhile I happily retired to the edge next to Jeff Azoff. We chatted for a few minutes, exchanging the normal new acquaintance pleasantries. We talked about London and LA and music. He was easy to chat with. He got my humor. I understood why Harry liked him so much.  
“Hey you’re probably going to punch me for this but I have to ask.” He said after a few moments of silence, both of us watching Harry and the kids chicken flight in the shallow end. “Are you pregnant?”  
I punched him in the arm jokingly. “How dare you!” He gave me a crooked, unsure smile. “Yeah. Yeah I am.” My hand instinctively came down to cover my stomach. “How did you guess?”  
“Harry has been talking about babies even more than usual. And then he shows up here calling you his girlfriend, which is the least Harry-like thing I’ve seen from him in awhile. And he keeps touching your stomach. I don’t know, I just thought it made sense.” He admitted, still staring out at the pool, nervously flicking his feet back and forth in the water.  
“That’s quite a leap, if I’m honest, but you were right so I suppose it’s not too bad.” I was just happy he didn’t say I looked pregnant or something. 

As the night came to a close, Jeff and his sisters started a bonfire while the rest of us sat around on lawn chairs chatting. One of the young children, a 4 year old girl named Dawn, crawled up into my lap. She was on her second wind after playing in the pool for hours and quite bouncy. She stood on my thighs, holding my index fingers up with her tiny hands, and jumped to her knees on my belly. It didn’t hurt and for the most part she was supported by my hands, very little of her weight landing on me.  
Her mother ran up and grabbed her from me. “Dawnie, honey, you can’t do that. Ms. Malu has a baby in her tummy and you don’t want to hurt it.” She looked up at me, sitting there dumbfounded. “I’m so, so sorry. Are you ok?”  
“Yeah, she didn’t hurt me, really.” I finally answered. I guess everyone knows.

In the morning I made a decision that even Harry questioned. I decided to tell our parents.  
“If we wait to tell them they’ll be upset.” I told him, signing into Skype on my Macbook. “You don’t have to be here while I tell my parents. I’m fine telling them on my own.”  
“No,” he sat next to me. “I’ll be here.” He looked pale, almost sickly.  
“It’ll be alright. They may be a little-“ I was cut off by my parents’ confused looking faces on the screen.  
“See, there she is.” Martin spoke from off screen. “Holy shit.” His face slid into frame, just inches from the camera. “Is that Harry Styles?”  
“Hello Mum and Da! Hello Martin!” I called out, sounding more chipper than I felt. “How are you? Are you well?”  
“We’re very well, angel.” My father answered. “Who’s your friend?”  
“Oh, um, this is my boyfriend. His name is Harry.” Harry waved awkwardly. “We actually have something to tell you.”  
“Shut up, Felix. You know who Harry Styles is. He’s from that band with the directions. They’re on every bloody show on the telly.” Mum laughed, pinching my father’s arm. “Malu, is this a joke? Are you really dating this little white boy?”  
“Mum please. Now isn’t the time.” I could see Harry gnawing on his lip on the screen in front of me. “Let me just say what I need to say.”  
“Just spit it out, dear.” Da spoke over Mum’s chattering.  
I slipped my hand into Harry’s and laced our fingers together, giving him a reassuring squeeze. “I’m, uh, I’m pregnant. We’re having a baby.”  
“Fucking Christ.” My father bellowed, standing up instantly and walking away.  
“Oh, Malu, darling. What are you thinking? You’re not ready to be a mother!” Mum yelled. “And you!” She pointed at the screen, her already thick West African accent nearing the point of incomprehension. I assumed she was gesturing toward Harry. “Are you going to take care of my daughter and a child? Are you going to be changing nappies and waking up in the middle of the night and making sacrifices or are you just going to throw money around like you posh arseholes always do!”  
“Oh my God, Mum! We have to go! Love you all bye!” I called out, ending the call as quickly as I could. “That could have gone better.” I laid my head on Harry’s shoulder.  
“My mum will take it better, I promise.” Harry said calmly. I had completely forgotten that we were going to tell his family as well. My stomach sank watching him dial his phone and put it on speaker.  
“Hello, Harry!” A woman’s voice sang through the phone after only two rings.  
“Hi, mum. You alright?” He sounded so excited. I wished I could have felt it too.  
“Yeah! Robin and I are just sitting out back. The weather is perfect today. How’s California? Warm I bet.” We could just faintly hear a man’s voice, Robin’s, yelling “Hiya, Harry!” in the background causing Harry and Anne both to chuckle.  
“The weather is very good, yeah. Been perfect.” He bounced his knee up and down, starting to get nervous. “I actually called for a reason. I have something very important to tell you.”  
“Is this about the girl you told me about last Friday? Is she there? Send me a picture when we get off the phone. I want to see what she looks like.” He looked at me and put his finger over his lips, clearly fighting a laugh, to shush my snickering. I wondered what he told his mum about me.  
“Yeah she’s here, mum. Her name is Malu, remember.” He rolled his eyes mockingly.  
“Of course. I like that name.” We could hear her mutter something to Robin before speaking to us again. “What is it you want to tell me?”  
“Malu is pregnant.” He said so slowly I thought he was going to stop mid sentence and give up. I braced for impact, lowering my body to rest my head in his lap. His hand came down to pet my hair gently.  
“Are you serious?” She exclaimed. “You’re just taking the piss right?”  
“No, mum. I’m not. I’m serious. “ He was laughing. I turned to look up at him, confused. “What do you think?”  
“I think it’s a huge deal, but a baby is a blessing.” From her tone we could both tell she was starting to cry. “You’re still my baby yourself, Harry. I hope you’re ready. Do you know a due date or anything yet?”  
“Around Christmas time.” He answered, his voice getting a bit croaky too. I wondered if he was going to cry as well. I knew I was quite close.  
“A Christmas baby, how nice!” She said happily, sniffing a bit through her tears. I couldn’t help but giggle at how much Harry was like his mother.


	12. Three.

It’s funny how quickly word spreads. By August, when I really began to show, everyone on tour already knew. Our friends knew, our family knew. It was just a fact floating in the air a few feet above my head that I didn’t even notice anymore.   
We were on a private flight from Baltimore to Los Angeles for a ten day break in which Harry’s parents would be visiting. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t nervous, but the only thing on my mind was rest.   
“Are you going to sleep?” Harry asked from where he sat across from me, looking up momentarily from his phone.   
“Not sleepy. Just getting comfortable.” I was fluffing my pillow intensely behind my back, trying to alleviate the strain I had been feeling all day.   
“You can always get comfortable with me.” He set his phone on the seat next to him and patted his lap. I rolled my eyes mockingly but complied, gingerly sitting on his knee.   
“I’m going to crush you.” I whispered into his neck, kissing just under his ear, the spot that drives him the most crazy. He traced his short nails up and down my back softly, raising goosebumps on my arms.   
“You can’t crush me. You should be more worried about me crushing you.” He hooked a finger under my chin and pulled me in for a long, deep kiss. We had developed this nasty habit of going at it like bunnies every time we were alone. My hormones were raging, setting me on fire. There were times where I would look at him, sitting quietly in his mostly unbuttoned shirt with his smooth chest underneath, not paying any attention to the world turning around him, and I would be willing to jump off a cliff to just touch him.   
We weren’t quite alone on that flight though, so as badly as I needed him it wasn’t going to happen. We settled on an overly sexual cuddle that ended in me watching him skim through twitter for nearly two hours. I had grown to love our quiet paradise. The bliss ended rather quickly, though, when we got off of our plane.   
Our plan, the plan that we had been able to execute successfully several times before, was that Harry would leave through the front door of the airport first, attracting all of the attention, and then I would trail behind on my own clear of the pandemonium.   
It all went off without a hitch until we got to the cars. Just before I could hop in the backseat of the black Tahoe in front of his unnoticed, a photographer toward the back of the pack bumped me rather hard. I stumbled a bit, grabbing the door to catch my balance. While I was completely fine, in Harry’s eyes it must have appeared much worse.   
“Hey! Watch it! She’s pregnant, mate!” He called out from where he was walking. All eyes immediately turned to me. I stood frozen, terrified, as he made a detour in my direction, bring the flock of paparazzi with him. That’s when he said it. That’s when the words came out of his mouth that blew our happy little canoe into the deep ocean forever. “Are you alright, babe?” His hand came down on my stomach softly and I wanted nothing more than to curl into a ball and cry.   
The camera lights were blinding, even once I had scrambled into the backseat and hid under my sweater. Harry had slid in next to me instead of getting into his own car. He knew our plan had backfired massively.   
We rode in silence all the way to his house. All I wanted to do was lie down, but by the time we got inside my phone was ringing off the hook. It was Beth.  
“What the hell is going on?” She bellowed when I answered. “I just saw your pissed off looking face on the news.”  
“The news?” I questioned loudly, gesturing for Harry to come over to me from where he was standing in the kitchen. I put Beth on speaker.   
“Yeah. They played a video of you and that dumb fuck-“   
“You’re on speaker love.” I cut her off.   
“Oh shit.” She mumbled. “Wait. On speaker with Harry Styles? Jesus.”  
“Just tell me what you saw.” I was getting highly annoyed.   
“Well you were stood there looking all mad and then Harry came over to you and was touching your belly. You look adorable pregnant by the way. They’re saying shit like ‘Possible dad to be Harry Styles’” I nearly threw up in my mouth listening to her. It had been just over an hour and this was already on the news in London.   
“I wouldn’t worry too much. There’s always a rumor about me with someone going around.” Harry said softly, placing his hand on my lower back while I leaned onto the counter, stress rushing over me violently.   
“Is that Harry? Hi Harry! I’m Beth. I’m Malu’s best friend. I’m sure we’ll meet eventually.” I cleared my throat loudly to interrupt her idiotic flirting. “Sorry. So they also have your name. Thought you should know. “ I whined pathetically. “I know, darling. It’s wild. I nearly punched the telly.”

The days that followed were a circus. I felt trapped in the house. Every time I tried to go out someone would photograph me. There were jokes and comments on late night television shows and my face and name plastered all over gossip magazines and twitter. By the time Harry’s family finally flew in I was actually relieved to have something different to worry about.   
Anne and Robin were so good to me. They didn’t have to be. They didn’t know me from Adam and suddenly I was having their son’s baby. For the most part, Anne and I passed the time by the pool, her with a wine spritzer and me with lemonade, chatting endlessly.   
She was unbelievably understanding. She told me that all she asked was that I do my best to protect her son and our child and something about that was exactly what I needed to hear. My focus had been on the fear of everyone finding out, but now everyone knew. It was freeing in a way. My life had become exponentially more public, but that only meant I didn’t have to hide anymore. It was really only a matter of time anyway.   
On our second to last day of break, Harry, Anne, and I made the drive to Dr. Hutton’s office for the scan we’d been waiting for for months. We were going to find out the sex of the baby.   
It was nice having Harry’s mum in the room. It had felt for so long like Harry and I were going it alone, both of us having these overwhelming experiences together that we were not at all ready for. She held my hand as they pushed the ultrasound probe back and forth over my abdomen, measuring and documenting the baby’s heartbeat and bones. Everything appeared strong and healthy. I was overjoyed.   
After the more important parts of the scan were over, the technician went searching for the sex. I was mesmerized just watching the tiny creature inside of me move. I had been feeling the small flutters of motion periodically for a few weeks, but Harry hadn’t gotten to yet. Truthfully, we had very little resting time together while working and I wasn’t at all interested in waking him once he’d fallen asleep just to feel for the miniscule movements, too faint to be noticeable by someone not carrying them inside.   
“Are you ready to hear the sex of your baby?” The tech asked happily.   
“Yes!” All three of us called out at once. Anne held a tight grip on my hand and Harry was doing the same to my shoulder from where he stood on my other side.   
“It looks like you’re having a little girl!” All three of us were speechless. A girl. 

That night Harry sat cross-legged by my side in bed with his hand on my belly waiting for a kick. He was determined to feel it. We waited and waited in silence but nothing happened.   
“She must be sleeping.” I whispered. “Maybe if we say something to her she’ll move.”  
He bent down until his mouth was just centimeters from my skin, his wide palm still waiting on my bump. “Hello, little bean. This is your dad. I want to feel you.” Nothing happened. He frowned at me and I shrugged, ready to give up until the next day. He wasn’t willing to give in though. “Somebody told me you were leaving town.” He sang softly. “I swear I never thought you’d be the one to let me down.”   
That’s when we both felt it. A tiny flutter, and then another and another.   
“Keep singing!” I encouraged. “I think she likes it.”  
His breathing was heavy, excited. “Singing to the walls. Singing to this lonely street. You can never run but you said you’d run with me.” He sang the entire song until the fluttering slowed again.   
He pulled his phone out of his jeans pocket and took a picture. A snapshot of his hand on my belly in the dim light of his bedroom to remember the moment by.   
“I’m going to put it on Instagram.” He told me, half testing the waters for my approval.   
“In black and white no doubt.” I joked, rolling to my side to face him, my heavy, tired eyes closing against my will. It had been a hell of a day. 

I woke before him in the morning. I quietly crept out of bed and downstairs to the kitchen to make a cup of tea. Anne and Robin were both sitting around the bar eating breakfast. They smiled knowingly when they saw me.  
“Cute little photo Harry put on Instagram last night. Caused quite a buzz.” Robin chuckled, chomping down on a bite of eggs.   
“Oh I haven’t seen. I hope I don’t look like a complete lump.” I dug around on the cabinet for my favorite cup, finally finding it next to the sink where I had left it.   
“Here, love. Look.” Anne held her phone out to me. I took it and sat down on the stool next to her. The photo was lovely. I couldn’t take my eyes off of it. His massive hand on my bulging little belly, the white of his room glowing around us. The caption read, “And baby makes three.” The photo was in color.


End file.
